


My Heart Beats Your Name

by mustachio



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Food Porn, Happy Ending, M/M, Not All Porn, Only A Little Porn, Oral Sex, Some sad stuff, not a lot, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1752317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustachio/pseuds/mustachio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all you need is to spend a little time in bed with the ones you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart Beats Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is only mildly porny. You can definitely skip the porn if you don't want to read that.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like to have kids?” Carlos asks Cecil one night. “Adopting, I mean. It would be scientifically impossible for us to have biological children of our own, of course, but I was thinking that maybe it would be nice to be a dad.”

Cecil has this patient smile on his face that makes Carlos feel like he might have said something wrong somewhere down the line, but Cecil is too polite not to point it out. Maybe he shouldn’t have clarified what he meant by “have kids.” Obviously Cecil knew what he meant before he explained it. Cecil turns a page in the book he’s reading and doesn’t look up at Carlos.

“I used to.” Cecil replies plainly, not hinting at what might have happened to make that change.

Carlos looks back down at the scientific journal he’d been reading before, but suddenly none of the science in it seems very interesting. He looks back to Cecil who is still smiling that patient smile of his, contemplating if he wants to push the subject or not. He nudges Cecil’s leg with his knee and Cecil, still reading, says:

“You may ask if you’re curious. Curiosity is in your nature as a scientist, isn’t it?”

Scientific journal closed, Carlos sets it off to the side on his night stand. He curls up against Cecil’s side, protective and affectionate.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Cecil fiddles with the corner of the page he’s on, ultimately decides to close it for the night. He snuggles into Carlos’s warmth.

“StrexCorp took over.” Cecil says anyway, even though Carlos didn’t ask. “They threatened the town I love and the man I love. I will not give them anyone else to threaten.”

Carlos nods, silent, disappointed, and understanding. Would he want to raise a child in a town controlled by StrexCorp? No, no he would not. But some day he would like to raise a child with Cecil in a town uncontrolled by StrexCorp.

“One day.” Cecil says, tangling his fingers in the messy curls on Carlos’s head. He presses a kiss to the curls next to his hand. “One day.”

*

“My heart says your name,” Is quite possibly the most scientifically unsound thing Carlos has ever said in his life. “Every time it beats,” he insists with his face pressed half into Cecil’s pillow and his legs hanging off his side of the bed. He hates the way he always seems to end up sprawled across the bed like this after a full night’s sleep, but Cecil says it’s endearing.

Now Cecil says “mhmm” and Carlos is uncertain if that’s because he believes the thump-thump of Carlos’s hear is actually saying Cecil or if it’s because he’s still half asleep and unable to process the things Carlos is saying.

Carlos adjusts himself so that his whole body is on Cecil’s side of the bed and pressed against Cecil’s naked skin. Cecil’s skin is warm, no longer sticky with sweat the way it was last night when they fell asleep tangled up in each other, but no more clean.

With half lidded eyes, Carlos looks at Cecil. With sleep clumsy fingers, Carlos touches Cecil. He runs his fingers over smooth skin marred by bumps and rough patches caused by a lifetime of Night Vale citizenship. He knows every story to every scar. Sometimes he has nightmares about them. Sometimes he dreams he was there to experience them, too. He looks at the ocean blue blankets covering Cecil’s brown skin and imagines taking Cecil to the beach one day. They could stay in his parents’ beachfront house and spend the day in the ocean until their entire bodies are shriveled and pruned.

“You know,” Carlos begins again, pressing a kiss to a particularly prominent scar just above Cecil’s nipple. “I think we’re scientifically impossible.” Carlos pauses. His head feels a little fuzzy, eyes feel too heavy. He’ll probably be sleeping again in a matter of seconds. “Scientifically, people aren’t made for each other. People just—they just work well together. But I think—I think maybe we are actually made together.”

The soft inhale-exhale of Cecil’s breathing is the only response. He’s already asleep again. Carlos’s head feels even fuzzier now. He can’t think straight. Vaguely, he registers the fact that he’s drooling on Cecil, but can’t muster the energy to close his mouth or care.

“I love you.” Carlos says, or possibly thinks. It’s hard to tell exactly when he’s already more than three quarters of the way back to sleep.

*

“I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible.” 

The words are muffled as Carlos pulls a clean t-shirt over his head. Cecil watches him from his spot in their bed, buried under their covers, and feeling far too lonely already. The emergency call for Carlos to go back to the lab came just as they’d gotten settled into bed and Cecil could hear the panic in the grad student’s voice as he tried to explain to Carlos what had happened. Apparently he’d been less prepared than he originally thought to watch the samples over night because he’d ended up dozing off for just a few minutes. In that time the samples decided he was an unfit leader and staged a coup to take over the lab. The only person they’re willing to speak to, the grad student had said, was Carlos.

“I miss you already.” Cecil’s disappointment seeps too deeply into his voice. The look Carlos gives him in return is heartbreaking.

“You know I would stay if I could…”

Carlos crosses the space between their closet and their bed in three long strides. Warm hands cup Cecil’s face, soft thumbs sweeping gently across his cheekbones. Carlos kisses him once—soft and gentle and reminiscent of their first kiss except this one is much more confident. Cecil rests one of his hands on top of one of Carlos’s.

“I know you would, but Science needs you. We have the rest of our lives to be together. Go be the brave scientist we all know you are.”

Their bed is bigger than Cecil ever realized it was. It’s the first time he’s ever tried to sleep in it alone and the empty space surrounding him reminds him too much of the void to let sleep come easily. Carlos’s empty spot is vast and empty, dark and lonely, and brings to mind thoughts of his own mortality and tiny, meaningless existence. Cecil turns on his other side so that he doesn’t have to see the empty side of the bed anymore.

It does little to help. 

Their room is too quiet. Or too loud. It’s a little hard to tell.

The air conditioner sounds like there’s a little person trying to saw its way out of the vent, the click-clack of Khoshekh’s claws on the hardwood floors reminds him of StrexCorp and all they’ve done to him, his own breathing is even too distracting and loud for him to fall asleep. Cecil has never noticed any of these things before. Until now he’s always had Carlos’s soft snoring to keep his mind off of all the other noises their house had to offer. The snoring had been bothersome at first, now that it’s gone, Cecil isn’t sure how he feels.

Cecil lies flat on his back, head sinking into the pillows which muffle the sounds keeping him awake. This does not help him fall asleep. The sounds distracted him from sleep before, but their distortion now puts him on edge and makes him uneasy. He can’t accurately tell what’s going on around him if the sounds are muffled and as long as he’s awake and alert he’d like to be aware.

He turns so that he’s on his side again, facing Carlos’s empty spot. It looks wrong to see that side of the bed so vacant. He closes his eyes. He can feel the exhaustion of the day creeping up on him, making his body feel tired, but his mind keeps going and going and going. He thinks of the day’s broadcast, things he could have done differently, things he should have done differently. It was a good broadcast overall—he even managed to keep his comments about StrexCorp to himself right up until the very end. It helped that they were less evil than usual today. Lauren had taken the day off and Daniel managed to make himself scarce.

He thinks of Janice and, subsequently, Steve Carlsberg. Janice has been flying through her badges with more fervor and zest than he ever had for earning badges in the Boy Scouts. It makes him proud to see her so passionate about the Girl Scouts. It’s been good for her. She’s not a shy girl, but she’s never been very good at making friends and the Girl Scouts have made it so much easier on her. It’s just a shame she has that awful Steve Carlsberg for a stepfather. No parent, not even a stepparent, should ever be so uninvolved in their child’s life and Steve is the very definition of uninvolved. Just the other day Carlos ended up having to be the one to take Janice to her troop’s meeting because her mother is sick and Cecil was stuck at work. Who even knows where Steve was. Not taking care of his stupid tan Corolla, that’s for sure.

Cecil opens his eyes. Carlos’s side of the bed is still empty and the alarm clock on Carlos’s night stand indicates that two hours have already gone by since Carlos left. He wonders how Carlos’s science is going. He hopes it’s going well. Carlos gets so upset when things don’t go well. It makes Cecil’s heart hurt to see Carlos upset like that. Maybe he should check in with Carlos, just to make sure he’s okay. He glances at his phone for a long moment, but no. He shouldn’t check in with Carlos. His mind is already too active for sleep. Texting Carlos is hardly going to help that. He’ll just have to trust that Carlos is okay and his science is okay. 

Three hours.

He takes a pillow from Carlos’s side of the bed, presses his face into it, and inhales deeply. It smells like lavender chewing gum. He hopes Carlos comes home soon. It really is just awful trying to sleep without Carlos with him.

As he thinks that, the squeak of the front door opening and closing sounds from downstairs and following that, the soft thud of footsteps coming up the stairs. Cecil holds the pillow closer in anticipation. Soon enough, Carlos is flopping face first onto the bed so close to Cecil he just barely missed ending up on top of him. He lifts his face from the mattress to look at Cecil with a sleepy grin.

“Hey.” Carlos whispers.

“Hey.” Cecil replies. He hands the pillow back to Carlos.

“What’re you doing up so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. You smell like science.” And by “science” Cecil means Carlos smells like burned lab coat and chemicals. It’s not the best smell in the world but it is uniquely Carlos and oddly comforting in its own way.

“Sorry. I’ll go take a shower.” Carlos shucks off his lab coat and makes a move to get off the bed to go to the bathroom, but Cecil grabs his wrist before he can get anywhere.

“No, stay. You can shower in the morning.”

“Mmkay.” Comes Carlos’s muffled reply as he flops back onto the bed. Cecil snuggles in closer to him and Carlos wraps his arm tightly around Cecil’s waist. Within seconds Carlos is asleep, the soft rumble of his snoring filling the room and overtaking the other noises that kept him awake. It lulls his thoughts away until his mind calms down enough that the exhaustion in his body also invades his brain.

Within seconds, Cecil is asleep.

*

“You know,” Cecil begins with a wide grin and a hand tangled in Carlos’s hair. “When you asked if I wanted a sundae, this isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“Really?” Carlos replies, licking a trail of chocolate sauce up from Cecil’s neck. “This is my favorite way to eat sundaes.”

“I might enjoy it more if I had the chance to get a taste.”

Cecil tugs on Carlos’s hair lightly and Carlos moves up to press a kiss to Cecil’s mouth. Carlos’s lips taste like chocolate and cherries. Cecil reaches for the can of whipped cream on the night stand, pushes Carlos until he’s lying flat on his back, and sprays just enough on either side of Carlos’s chest that his nipples are completely covered.

“This is going to get the sheets all sticky.” Cecil shakes his head playfully before leaning down to suck and lick at the neat little swirls he just created on Carlos’s nipples.

“Mmm, I love it when you talk dirty.” Carlos giggles out, arching into Cecil’s mouth. “Tell me more.”

Cecil shifts his gaze as he licks up the last drops of whipped cream from Carlos’s chest. He catches sight of the bottle of chocolate syrup and bowl of cherries and nuts and switches the whipped cream out for those. He lines Carlos’s belly button up to his sternum with the ingredients, careful not to get them too close to Carlos’s sides lest it actually get the sheets all sticky. Carlos squirms, the sensation of the tiny peanuts dropping onto his stomach tickling him and making lying still quite difficult.

“This chocolate will completely stain our blankets and we’ll be picking nuts out of the bedding for weeks.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, Cecil. So good.” Carlos gives a little eyebrow waggle and Cecil lets out a giggle of his own. “I won’t last very long if you keep talking like that.”

“Well, I do talk for a living. I _should_ be good at it.”

Carlos just grins and pulls Cecil down on top of him for a kiss, effectively squishing the cherries on his stomach between them and sending bright red cherry juice dripping down his sides and onto the sheets. Cecil refrains from kissing Carlos just long enough to watch one of the trails of sticky fruit juice hit the fabric of their sheets. When he looks back to Carlos it’s with a look that would almost certainly say “told you so” if Carlos were paying any attention to it. He isn’t, though. Carlos is paying more attention to Cecil’s lips and bringing him in for a kiss.

Their tongues both taste sugar sweet and Carlos lets his swipe across Cecil’s palate to get at the desert toppings stuck to the top of his mouth. Cecil sighs into Carlos’s mouth and enjoys the mix of the fresh taste of the lavender chewing gum Carlos is so fond of and the chocolate syrup now joining the cherry juice in staining their sheets. They kiss for a good long time. They kiss and kiss and kiss until their lips are chapped and both of them are flush from head to toe under brown skin.

“Carlos?” Cecil asks when they finally pull away from each other. “By any chance, did you happen to get ice cream for our sundaes? “

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested in doing this so I left it in the freezer to make sure it didn’t melt in case you just wanted to eat it in a bowl and not— you know, not off of me.” Carlos watches Cecil with half lidded eyes and a desire for nothing else but to kiss Cecil again. “I can go get it if you want.”

Cecil grants his wish, if only for a moment, with another soft press of his lips against Carlos’s. Much to Carlos’s dismay, Cecil pulls away again immediately after.

“No, no. Stay here. I don’t want you to go anywhere.” Cecil smiles and Carlos grins back. 

They kiss again and Cecil thinks he could spend his entire life kissing Carlos if only Carlos would let him if only the powers that be and the Sherriff’s Secret Police would allow it. Carlos sighs into Cecil’s mouth, content and dreamy.

“So,” Carlos doesn’t pull away when he speaks, lips brushing against Cecil’s with every movement. Cecil palms at Carlos’s half hard cock to full hardness. The action brings a delicious rasp to Carlos’s voice and makes him squirm for more. “Ice cream now or…”

With a flick of his tongue, Cecil catches a stray drop of chocolate sauce that threatened to make its way from Carlos’s skin to the sheets.

“The ice cream can wait. I just want you now.”

A bottle of caramel sauce makes its way into one of Cecil’s hands while the contents are emptied into the other. Cecil places the bottle back on the nightstand again and runs the hand filled with caramel sauce up and down Carlos’s shaft until most of it has come off his hand. Carlos bucks up into his hand and whines when he takes his hand away.

“Cecil…” Cecil’s name is a breathy moan on Carlos’s lips, the syllables long and drawn out and nothing short of reverent.

Cecil responds by ducking his head down and taking Carlos slowly into his mouth. 

“Cecil,” Carlos moans again and then “Oh god, _Cecil_ …” When Cecil sucks in just the right way, when he flicks his tongue over the head of Carlos’s cock, and then pulls back so that his lips only barely circle the tip. Carlos bucks up into Cecil’s mouth and Cecil obligingly takes him back in. His hands tangle themselves in Cecil’s hair, tugging just hard enough that it hurts in the sweetest way.

Careful hands trace soft patterns on the skin of Carlos’s thighs. A deft tongue presses against Carlos’s shaft, slowly licking its way up and down even as Cecil hollows out his cheeks and sucks. Carlos’s hips spasm upward as though Carlos has lost all control of his body. Perhaps he has, if the look on his face is anything to go by. Were Cecil’s mouth not occupied with something else, he might have been smirking.

It’s incredible how thoroughly he can take his scientist apart.

He pulls off.

Cecil’s mouth comes away with a lewd pop, but Cecil doesn’t back away immediately. He licks up the last vestiges of caramel sauce from Carlos’s cock, licks it off of his lips, and when he does back away he takes a moment to admire the sight of Carlos writing and desperate for more. Carlos’s hands fall away from his hair as he moves, curling up in the sheets instead.

He leans down to line his mouth up with Carlos’s ear, lowers his voice to the purr too suggestive for his show. It’s a tone reserved only for Carlos—his dear, beloved Carlos.

“I’m feeling a little hungry. I think it might be time for a quick bowl of ice cream.”

The words are not sexy, not really. The tone was suggestive, but the words… the words were not. Still, Cecil doesn’t think he has ever seen someone open their eyes so quickly, doesn’t think he has ever seen someone give him as wild and frantic a look as Carlos is giving him now.

“Cecil!”

Cecil grins, presses a kiss to Carlos’s cheek.

“Yes?”

“Please.”

He kisses Carlos’s forehead. 

Their favorite lube comes out of the bedside table; a condom makes its way onto Cecil’s cock. Long fingers make their way inside of Carlos and whatever traces of coherency the scientist had left leave him immediately. He begs for more; a litany of curses and pleads and prayers spilling from his mouth with every passing second. 

It isn’t long before it becomes too much for Cecil to bear.

Cecil enters Carlos slowly, teasing. He does so hate to stall his own pleasure, but to watch Carlos get so close to the edge without being able to go over it makes it all worth it. Carlos wriggles his hips and manages to find an angle that leaves him wide eyed, mouth gaping. Cecil grins and thrusts once, twice, over and over, hitting that same spot inside of Carlos over and over until Carlos is screaming Cecil’s name like it’s the only word he can remember and they both fall over the edge with each other’s names on their lips.

They lie together in silence for a long while, sweaty and spent; content and comfortable. Cecil strokes Carlos’s hair and Carlos traces his finger along the lines of Cecil’s scars.

“Cecil?”

“Hmm…?”

“Did you still want that ice cream?”

Cecil curls around Carlos a little more, holding him closer, and confining them both to the bed.

“No,” Carlos can’t see Cecil from this angle, face pressed into his chest as it is, but Cecil nods anyway. “I don’t ever want to move from this spot.”

“Okay, good. I don’t want to move, either.”

*

The air inside the house is stifling. Their lightest blanket is too heavy. Cecil's body so close to his produces so much heat that Carlos almost wants to pull away. He can't breathe like this. He certainly can't sleep.

He pulls Cecil closer, squeezes his hands to make sure Cecil isn't going anywhere. Cecil's breathing is too easy and too relaxed for what the next day will bring. Carlos feels like he can't get enough air into his lungs.

Parade day. Tomorrow is parade day.

Tomorrow is the day Tamika Flynn's army of well-read teenaged soldiers will strike the StrexCorp headquarters.

Carlos is terrified. Cecil is confident. Too confident. Cecil believes without a doubt that Tamika will prevail.

"I promise you have nothing to worry about, Carlos." Cecil had told him. "We have been preparing for this for so long there is no way we can fail."

"Nothing is a promise," Carlos answered back and Cecil held his hand up to stop him before he could get the rest of his words out.

"I know, I know. Everything is some level of probably. We've been over this before. That's why we have a backup plan."

Cecil gives him a smile that Carlos is certain is meant to be comforting, but is actually anything but.

"You do?" Carlos hates that his voice betrays his skepticism. He wants to place all the confidence in the world in Cecil. It's just that it's hard to place all that confidence in someone you're so worried about at the same time. StrexCorp doesn't have a hold on anyone the way they have a hold on Cecil and Cecil has been publicly supporting Tamika ever since Tamika started acting out against StrexCorp. That kind of thing puts Cecil in more danger than anyone else in Night Vale save Tamika herself and probably the rest of her army.

"Of course we do, Carlos." Cecil's voice is chiding, but not offended. He doesn't say anything more.

"What is it?"

Cecil's expression turns uneasy. Worried.

"Cecil?"

"We're going to let them take us." Cecil doesn't meet Carlos's eyes. Instead, he looks just over Carlos's shoulder at the lamp on Carlos's nightstand.

"Let them-- Cecil, I don't think you're going to have a choice in the matter if they try to take you." Carlos sits up and scoots away from Cecil. It's less an attempt to put distance between them and more an attempt to calm his suddenly restless nerves through movement. "Why would you let them take you, anyway? That's not a backup plan that's a death wish!"

Cecil reaches for his hand, presses light kisses all along the back of it and up to his wrist.

"We've planted someone on the inside. When StrexCorp takes us our mole is going to let us out from whatever prison they lock us in and we'll destroy them from the inside." Cecil still sounds too sure, too confident. This backup plan is making Carlos more nervous than the main plan.

"If all they do is lock you up. If they haven't found out about your mole and brainwashed him into joining them." Carlos holds too tightly to Cecil's hand. When they first started spending the night together Cecil asked if they could sleep holding hands. He'd read somewhere that otters did that to make sure their partner didn't float away. Now Cecil is voluntarily letting the currents rip him away. "I can't let you do that."

"That isn't your choice to make, Carlos." Cecil's voice is chiding. "This is my home. Your home. I have to do what I can to protect it. If you have another plan I will be happy to listen, but this is all we have. I can't allow StrexCorp to rule any longer."

Carlos is silent for a long minute before he settles back down. Cecil scoots closer and curls protectively around him.

"I know this is hard for you. I can't imagine how I would feel if the situation were reversed, Carlos, but you have to understand." 

He closes his eyes. Understanding Cecil's reasoning is hardly Carlos's issue here. He gets it, he really does. It's just...

"I'm afraid, Cecil. I do understand why you're doing this. I do. I'm just afraid. We've almost been together for a year and I was kind of hoping we'd have many more years together after this one." Cecil doesn't respond and Carlos thinks he prefers it that way. False assurances would only make him more upset. "I wish there was something I could do. I wish I'd done more to help."

Fingers trace lightly over the temporary dinosaur on Carlos's arm. After one too many drinks in an attempt to forget a particularly exhausting day he decided he wanted a tattoo, but couldn't decide what he wanted a tattoo of. This was Cecil's solution. 

"Maybe there is something I can do." The movement on his arm stops and Cecil lifts his head to look at Carlos curiously. Carlos keeps his eyes closed. His idea is barely even half formed. It's something he should think more on before he says anything about it, but time is something they don't have anymore. "Those doors that have appeared around town... I think I've almost found a way to get back here without anyone else's help. I haven't tested my hypothesis yet, but if I'm right--"

"No." Cecil doesn't raise his voice, but his tone leaves no room for argument. "What if your wrong? What if you can't get back on your own? StrexCorp will go after you and your team. If they take them while you're in there--"

"Then I'll keep working to find a way out from inside. Maybe I'll be able to find Dana. Everything we've seen in the doors, everything we've heard from Dana--it all seems to match up. If she has--" 

Carlos is just making this all up as he goes along, pulling every bit of information he has that might be relevant to the forefront of his mind and his plan is starting to take shape when Cecil cuts him off again. They're going to have to stop doing that to each other. They aren't accomplishing anything by interrupting each other.

"It's not safe! I don't want you going through those doors when there's such a high risk!"

"You don't get to say that, Cecil!" Carlos pulls away, glaring at Cecil who flinches at the anger in Carlos's voice. He doesn't think he's ever been this angry at Cecil before. He takes a moment to calm himself down, to make sure he won't be yelling again and his anger is a little more contained. "I'm sorry, but you don't get to say you don't want me going through the doors when you're about to let StrexCorp take you."

Carlos reaches for Cecil again and Cecil gladly takes the offered hand.

"That is just our backup plan. If Tamika can win at Strex headquarters everything will be fine." Cecil isn't yelling now, either.

"If Tamika wins then the other scientists will be safe and you won't have to worry about me. I still think trying to find Dana in there could be worth it." He runs his thumb over Cecil's knuckles, sighing softly. "Who knows? Maybe we'll find Old Woman Josie in there and all the other people who have gone missing since StrexCorp invaded."

Cecil nods, the movement of his head so slight it's barely noticeable.

"They know you've been studying the house that doesn’t exist. You should do what you can to mislead them. Make them think you haven't come close to finding a way out on your own. Make them think you aren’t as far in your research as you are."

"Okay, I can do that." Carlos scoots closer again and presses a kiss to Cecil's forehead. "Talk about the doors on your show tomorrow. Before everything actually begins. I'll call during you show, spin a story to try and throw them off."

Cecil nods again. They each turn off their respective lamps and settle back against the pillows. It's late. Too late.

"We should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day." Carlos sighs heavily. He inserts one leg between Cecil's, slides his arms under Cecil's to pull him in for a bedtime hug. Cecil adjusts his position to better accommodate Carlos. "Cecil?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you. And I’ll be fine. A scientist is always fine."

"I hope so. I love you, too."

*

“A scientist is always fine,” Carlos had said.

He had said that many times before and, scientifically speaking, it has always been true. He was fine after the incident at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex and he had been fine when the mass lethargy hit Night Vale, and, technically, he is fine now.

But he is fine somewhere else and neither of them know when he will be fine here.

Cecil grips the pillow that smells like Carlos and is wet with Cecil’s tears harder. He wraps the lab coat around himself a little tighter. It’s not enough. It’s just not enough.

He can wear all of Carlos’s clothes, surround himself with all of Carlos’s things, but it will never be enough.

Only Carlos could ever be enough.

And Carlos isn’t here.

*

Carlos’s pillow is no longer wet with Cecil’s tears.

Carlos’s pillow no longer smells like Carlos.

Carlos’s lab coat no longer holds any of Carlos’s warmth within its stitches.

Still, Cecil wraps himself up in these things once more tonight. How long has it been since he last saw Carlos? How long has it been since he last spoke to Carlos? Cecil no longer knows. The days have not gone by in a blur—he’s kept himself strong enough that his life has not been put on pause despite the immense sadness that comes from being separated from the love of his life, but Cecil has not kept count. 

The number somehow hurt more than the experience of living without Carlos. It gave the reality of Carlos’s missing presence in his life ground to stand on when he wants nothing more than to push it over a very high cliff.

Cecil closes his eyes, but does not go to sleep. He can never get to sleep immediately. The room is too loud, his mind is too busy, and Carlos’s alarm clock is too bright. How long has it been since he’s slept in the same room as Carlos? Too long— yet he still can’t get to sleep without the sound of Carlos’s soft humming. He curls in around himself, trying to find comfort where there’s none to be had.

Three hours pass. 

Three hours pass before Cecil is able to force himself into the lightest sleep anyone has ever had. Faintly, he hears the front door open. Cecil does not force himself back awake or stir in the slightest at the noise, he barely even hears it. If it’s a Secret Police officer, they can do what they want. If it’s someone coming to rob him or open a deadly portal to some unknown universe, well, he’ll just have to trust that the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in His Home will take care of it.

But there are no sounds of a commotion and nothing to indicate that it’s a Sherriff’s Secret Police officer and soon after the initial sound of the front door opening and closing, the sound of soft footsteps coming up the stairs begins, getting louder and louder the closer they get to the bedroom.

At what must be the top of the stairs, the footsteps stop completely.

Cecil buries his face in Carlos’s pillow, mutters a muffled

“There is no one there.”

In an attempt to deny the person away. Denial has been proven to be the quickest way to get rid of problems you have no desire to deal with, after all.

“There is no one there.” He says again, louder this time, but still muffled by the pillow.

The bedroom door opens.

“There is no one there.” Denial seems to be failing him tonight.

A dip in the bed proves there is someone there, the sighed

“Cecil.”

Gives further proof of the person. The hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly turning him so he’s on his back makes it almost impossible to deny that there is someone in his home, but at this point he has no desire to deny it. He would know that voice anywhere. He would know those oaky tones and that caramel voice and the feeling of warmth hearing his name from those lips gives him anywhere.

They hold tightly to each other, the inability to touch one another for far too long broken by the warmth and love and tangibility of this moment—this wonderful, beautiful, so-close-to-being-perfect-it-hurts moment. Carlos’s shoulders shake, his breath does the same, and there’s a wet spot growing on Cecil’s shoulders where Carlos has buried his face. He smells of sweat and dirt and existential terror, but Cecil doesn’t care. Can’t care. Carlos is here. Carlos is home. Carlos can shower in the morning. For now, Cecil just wants to hold him close and never let go.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re here now, we’re together, it’s okay.” Cecil runs one hand through Carlos’s hair, the other rubbing circles on his back. He’s whispering, but keeps his voice firm and sure. He can feel tears building behind his eyes and doesn’t mind at all when a few make their way down his cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“This is where I belong, Cecil. I love you, I love you so much, and I know I belong right here with you.” Carlos takes a shaky breath, turns his head so that he’s speaking into Cecil’s neck rather than his shoulder. “I never want to be separated from you like that again.”

“I know, Carlos. I love you, too. We’ll never have to be separated like that ever again. I promise.”

According to Science, nothing is a promise. According to Science everything is some form of maybe and normally Cecil can accept that. 

Not now.

Now Cecil is making a promise he fully intends to keep. Carlos is here, Carlos is sitting here in their bed in Cecil’s arms, and everything else is still such a mess, everything left in the aftermath of StrexCorp’s terrible reign have left Night Vale plunged in more chaos than ever before, but it’s okay. For now it’s okay.

They have each other and for tonight, that’s all either of them needs.

*

Somewhere in the southwest United States there is a small town named Night Vale. This town is not under the authority of a dystopian corpocratic regime and does not need a hero.

There is a home in Night Vale. This home was made in a house which is not in the housing development of Desert Creek out back of the elementary school and it does exist.

The home was made by Cecil and Carlos Palmer—neither of which are trapped in a strange desert that is like their own, but is not their own—who are both sleeping soundly in their bed.

Cecil and Carlos sleep in a web of limbs—legs between thighs, fingers tangled in hair, arms under heads or on waists, the occasional hands in faces. It’s not the sort of sleeping position that looks comfortable and they never fall asleep like this, but somehow always end up this way by the time they wake up. It’s a hot night; their blanket rests around their ankles, kicked there when the heat got to be too much to bear and the NVCR tank top Carlos stole from Cecil years ago during their first year together is bunched up under his armpits.

They’ve been asleep for hours now, the exhaustion of a particularly taxing day resting heavy in their bodies and minds which are grateful for the rest.

Neither of them stirs at the soft sound of tiny feet padding across the hardwood floors towards their bedroom. The footsteps stop when they reach the bed.

Carlos feels a light tugging on his fingers and begrudgingly forces himself awake. Cecil either ignores the tugging on his shirt or doesn’t feel it. Carlos untangles himself from Cecil, props himself up on an elbow and looks over Cecil with bleary to the little girl standing next to their bed.

“Charlie? Why are you awake?” Carlos’s voice is slightly slurred with sleep. “Are you okay?”

The dark haired girl shrugs. She makes her way over to Carlos’s side of the bed, holding her arms out to indicate her desire to be held. Carlos happily obliges her, setting her on his lap, and stroking her soft hair. She rests her head on Carlos’s chest and plays with the fingers on the hand not playing with her hair.

“I had a bad dream.” Charlie says without explaining further.

Carlos kisses the top of her head.

“What was it about?”

“I don’t remember.” She shrugs again.

Carlos sighs, but doesn’t press the issue any further, only presses another kiss into her hair. They sit together in silence after that, Carlos ready to nod off again, Charlie not sharing his exhaustion. He watches her with half lidded eyes. Carlos always feels little amazed when he looks at his daughter. Her hair, her eyes, her nose—they’re Carlos’s. Not literally, of course, but they’re Carlos’s in the way that all children share characteristics with their parents. Her mouth is Cecil’s. Her mouth and chin are Cecil’s. She’s a more perfect mix of them than any adopted child has any right to be.

Vaguely, he wonders if that’s just a Night Vale thing. He’ll have to ask Cecil about it later.

“Daddy?” Charlie whispers, breaking the silence and speaking a little too loudly for Carlos’s tastes. He glances at Cecil, who seems unbothered.

“Hmm…?”

“Can I go with you to work tomorrow?”

A deep breath to wake himself up a little more and then: “You have to go to school tomorrow. If you want we can go in for a bit on Saturday.”

“But we don’t do fun science in school.”

“And I do fun science?” A smile tugs at the corners of Carlos’s mouth. He doesn’t fight it and hugs Charlie a little closer when she nods.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I don’t think Dad would like it if I let you skip school to come to work with me.”

Charlie sighs, but then, from the other side of the bed and without opening his eyes to actually look at them, Cecil mutters

“The school board is going to cancel school tomorrow so the teachers and staff can help do the Glow Cloud’s bidding. I got the notice late so I couldn’t include it in my show tonight.”

Carlos’s heart twists in the sweetest way when Charlie’s eyes light up at the news. She looks to him, gaze hopeful, and Carlos finds himself powerless to refuse her. He smiles in response.

“You should come with us, Cecil. You’re going into the station late tomorrow, right?”

Cecil’s eyes open now. He looks remarkably well rested for someone that’s just waking up after only four hours of sleep. 

“Okay.” He says, lifting their daughter out of Carlos’s lap to put her in the small space between them. She’s a perfect fit. “I’ll go with you tomorrow. For now, sleep.”

Cecil stretches his arm over Charlie, letting it come to rest on Carlos’s stomach when he slides down to lie back again. Charlie giggles as she’s trapped under her father’s arm and snuggles in just a little closer. Cecil buries his face in her hair, grinning into the curls that inexplicably resemble her daddy’s so closely. Carlos turns on his side reaching across to Cecil and mimicking his position.

Nothing more is said for the night. Charlie ends up falling asleep first, her dreams apparently much more peaceful now with her parents protecting her from both sides than they had been when she fell asleep earlier. Cecil follows her lead shortly after and for a moment Carlos keeps his eyes open to watch his tiny family sleep.

When Carlos first set out for Night Vale, he’d only intended to stay one year—two tops. He had work elsewhere that seemed more important at the time, more worthwhile, but the anomalies he’d heard about seemed like too big an opportunity to pass up. 

He presses one more kiss into Charlie’s hair.

He’d never imagined that his work would be such a success that it would cement his place at the top of his field. He’d never imagined that he’d meet the love of his life here and he’d never imagined that this would be the place he started his family.

Yet here he is.

Here he is, sharing a bed with a man he has more love for than he ever thought he was capable of and the girl he loves differently, but just as much, if not more so. His husband and his daughter.

His family.

His wonderful, beautiful, perfectly imperfect little family.


End file.
